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Lee Gamble’s UIQ label unveils a second album from Filipina-Australian artist Corin Ileto, deploying a brace of swarming alien chorales and rapturous digital rave noise to explore the idea of sound as a sentient being. Bold and operatic, cinematic and cybernetic.

Named after the iconic choral work by 20th Century avant-garde legend György Ligeti (as immortalised by Stanley Kubrick in 2001), ‘Lux Aeterna' explores the idea of micropolyphony, a term Ligeti described as a complex polyphony "in which harmonies do not change suddenly, but merge into one another." Like Ligeti, Corin isn't primarily concerned with melody or rhythm, but timbre: the colour and quality of sound itself.

Taking its time to unfurl, the album opens with ‘lumen naturae’, winding tonal clouds that eventually latch onto a misshapen hoover sound that curves into the abyss. Corin shows her hand more formally on 'sunta', balancing layered cybernetic drones against ratcheting metallic rhythms and unstable textures. When the track cuts to almost-silence, it reminds us of Akira Rabelais' ghosted 'Spellewauerynsherde' (itself an impressionistic granulation of vocal recordings), before being disrupted by a dynamic kick that shares DNA with club music.

But despite her occasional flirtations with the club, Ileto doesn't appear to have any interest in making functional dance music. Instead, she emphasises momentum and texture. Like a celestial opera, ecstatic trance is reimagined within the context of sacred liturgy – merging hyper-real soundscapes with Gregorian chant and medieval instrumentation. Chrome-plated clangs and growling subs highlight the album’s sci-fi leanings, tapping into a sort of retro-futurism that balances a hi-tech mindset with a feeling of deep vulnerability and alienation.

Miles Away Records are proud to introduce our latest single to land on the label: the cosmic soul gem "Super Star" by Ruth Waters and the State of Mind Show Band.

A Texas native, Ruth "Silky" Waters was best known for her two disco-infused album's "Never Gonna Be The Same" and "Out In The Open"- produced by the late, great John Davis (John Davis Orchestra). It was however some of Ruth's early material that caught our interest when we started the label as far back as 2018. "Super Star", released on the tiny independent KMBA Recordings label in the late 1970s, draws from the wells of modern soul and gospel with a touch of cosmic synthy goodness. An proper ear turner, it was like nothing we'd heard before. Flip it and "Super Star Pt.2" goes deeper into the cosmic essence of the track with extended guitar and synth solos making this a crackin' little 45.

The track has been lovingly remastered by Phil Kinrade at the legendary AIR Studios and the lacquer was cut deep by Jukka at Timmion Records. It's now presented in our custom teal green labels and house bag.

When I first heard Natalie Rose LeBrecht's time-suspending, air-ionizing music, more than twenty years ago, I thought "this kid is on to something." She's been proving that thought right ever since. Her recordings, from the teenage 4-track tapes she made as Greenpot Bluepot to the recent albums under her own name, have been fascinating dispatches from her progressively deeper dives into her gorgeous, weird, wildly idiomatic aesthetic. Holy Prana Open Game is a jewel of intensely personal cosmic music, created through a remarkable process of openness, craftiness, addition and subtraction. It belongs to a tradition of albums that document a rich, meditative sound as it rises up to join the world outside its creators' minds: Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness, Harmonia's Musik von Harmonia, Philip Glass's North Star, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock.

"Meditative" is specifically the idea here: Holy Prana Open Game had its origins in the fourteen days LeBrecht spent silently meditating in her home's small music room in the summer of 2019. "I came out of that bursting with the will to create new music," she says, and she created it sound-first. LeBrecht taught herself to program an analog synthesizer's timbres from scratch, and built a new set of glacial, heady compositions out of them, eventually singing to accompany the keyboard parts she was playing.

Then she closed her eyes at her computer, "let my mind be clear and open, imagined light pouring down through me, and began auto-writing to my memory of the music playing through my mind. Most of the lyrics emerged this way, and then I used my conscious mind to refine them a bit at the end." One other song came along with LeBrecht's new pieces, a cover that seems wildly unlikely from the outside and makes total sense in its context: it's a version of Atoms for Peace's "Amok" (which had been created by improvisation and editing, too), mutated into her own idiolect.

In early March of 2020, LeBrecht recorded Holy Prana Open Game's analog synth parts with Martin Bisi at his studio in Brooklyn--and then the world shut down. As you may have gathered, LeBrecht is very much a spiritual, head-in-the-stars type. She is also extremely hardcore, and if making the art she wants to make means doing things the hard way, she cracks her knuckles and gets down to it. Within weeks, she had taught herself how to record, mix and edit with a digital audio workstation. She recorded her vocal parts (sometimes multi-tracked into a radiant choir) at home, assembled a rough mix of the album, and sent it off to her collaborators.

LeBrecht spent some years studying with and assisting La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela at their legendary sound-and-light installation, the Dream House. As with their work, her singular, precisely focused vision is shored up by its openness to artistic voices beyond her own. For Holy Prana Open Game, she worked with the Australian guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White (both of Dirty Three, the Tren Brothers and innumerable other projects), as well as woodwind player David Lackner, a longtime presence on her recordings.

Turner and White have been playing together in one context or another since 1985; in the summer of 2020, they were only blocks from each other in Melbourne, Australia, whose strict lockdown meant they couldn't meet up to record together. So both of them, as well as Lackner, recorded their improvisational additions to LeBrecht's rough mixes individually, often without hearing each other's contributions. "I had asked them to play as much as they could on each track," she says, "and told them that I would edit it all down in post, so I had a lot of source material of theirs to work with."

LeBrecht arranged and edited the recordings from all four of their homes to flow together like breath across the duration of her suite. Prana, one of the album's central conceits, is in fact the Sanskrit word for breath, with the connotation of the breath of life. Like LeBrecht's music, prana flows at its own pace, and demands stillness to take in fully--but it's also subtly playful and surprising, a force that can be as light as air or as immersive as the atmosphere itself.

Jimmy LaValle’s The Album Leaf has spun from solo outlet to full band and back in its nearly 25 years. His acclaimed catalog spans releases for labels such as Sub Pop, City Slang, Relapse, and others. He also composes music for film and television, scoring over 20 projects (narrative features, documentaries, and TV series) since 2009. The cinematic sensibilities of The Album Leaf were present from the beginning. His 1999 debut introduced the start of a signature sound: melodic and meditative electro-organic soundscapes constructed with guitar, percussion, Rhodes, and field recordings.

His seventh full-length LP, and first since 2016, arrives in 2023 via Vancouver’s Nettwerk Records. FUTURE FALLING finds LaValle working with an array of musicians, shaping slightly darker, more spacious, and synth-driven songs with contributions from Bat For Lashes, Kimbra, and many others.
The music registers a shade darker and more synth-driven than most moments in his acclaimed catalog, a bridge between shadowy, cerebral terrain and dreamy precision pop, where softly percussive frameworks meet shimmering sound design and emotive instrumentation.
LaValle sees the construction of FUTURE FALLING as less conventional than past work. Contributions were done remotely with a “throw everything at it” mindset, making LaValle the arranger of layers from all over: drums, synths, horns, violins, voice, and more. LaValle created a pastiche of these layers and elements; in some cases even moving vocal takes to new tracks entirely. Without the in-the-room dynamics, he had more time to experiment, adding and subtracting ad infinitum.
The album opens on “PROLOGUE,” an evocative, slow-building instrumental that rides a pattern into a symphonic sea of static. Keys and horns glide atop the rhythmic pulse of “DUST COLLECTS,” setting the contemplative scene for “AFTERGLOW,” the record’s most pop-minded performance. Here Kimbra, the Grammy-winning New Zealand singer-songwriter, renders a striking recollection of past love as percussive elements shimmer and swirl.
A plaintive piano line moves throughout “Cycles 19.9” encircled by light ambient washes, both a valley between two peaks and a powerful composition in its own right. “Future Falling” follows; with origins tracing back to 2015, the track embodies the full sonic journey LaValle has taken. All the hallmarks of The Album Leaf — melodic builds, vivid sprawl, tonal shape-shifting — assemble to a blissful finish.

For the next stretch, “Cycles” begins with a uneasy Rhodes loop that builds and erupts into a wall of texture paving its way into “Give In,” where LaValle models a movement that begins subtle and measured before curving up with skyward, percussive bursts (“Stride”) and settling back down to the album’s back-half centerpiece, “Near” featuring the acclaimed English artist Natasha Khan aka Bat For Lashes. “Do you feel me near?” she sings into a mist of widescreen synths and soothing, distant drum beats as if searching through the dark.

The Croatian production powerhouse and disco boogie impresario steps up to International Feel, and takes a left turn into deep space with a new six track LP Pulsar Diaries.

Ilija’s discography stretches back to 2003, and over those 20 years he’s packed it full with albums, versions, remixes and singles. His releases are often perfectly-penned love letters to ‘80s boogie, electro and disco, and like postcards from an old flame, they’ve landed in an array of record label catalogs, from Bear Funk, Rong, and Electric Minds, to Is It Balearic? as well as his own Red Music and Imogen Recordings. He’s long-been an active voice on the underground club scene, and if you’ve been out dancing in Zagreb, Berlin or even Tisno beach, chances are you’ve gotten down to one of his beautifully blended sets of cosmic-tinged electro funk and disco dubs.

On Pulsar Diaries, Ilija delivers a panoramic collection of spaced-out synths and drum machine grooves, dedicated to the planet and our place in the universe. The A side opens up with the blissful, weightless pads of the title track, before it breaks out into filtered stabs over a minimal b-boy bounce. Delphic Expanse ebbs and flows like a lunar eclipse, sounding like a futuristic version of Key-Matic’s Breaking In Space, all uprock rhythms and syrupy synth horns as it spins off beyond the asteroid belt. Side A closes out with Blackburn Tales, a suspenseful and spacious electro rhythm packed with strings and 303 squelch, which you might call anti-gravity acid, if you were so inclined.

Side B picks up the tempo with Fourth Amendment, perfect for the space station discotheque with its sweeping bass filters and ice-cold synth melodies hovering in orbit. Farewell Theme takes an introspective moment, slowing the pace to a cosmic 90 bpm and inviting a certain cinematic feel to proceedings. This feeling applies not just to the vivid landscapes we travel through, but also wider thoughts about humankind: as we pause for a breath and look around, we find ourselves in Ilija’s space, considering human motivations, like the pursuit of happiness, or the eternal struggle with the self.

Every journey begins with a goodbye, and so the last track of the album feels like the arrival at a new destination: Ursa Major is ablaze with cascading drum fills, bubble-wrapped bass riffs and bright synth chords that sparkle like city lights underneath a re-orbiting satellite.

With Pulsar Diaries, Ilija Rudman has created a rare artifact: an album that straddles several worlds at once. Part soundtrack to space travel, part meditation on the human condition, part deep-burning dancefloor dynamo - whether in the club surrounded by friends or at home by yourself, this is a record that expands the mind and lets the imagination soar.

Mark Hawkins readies ‘Venn Diagram’ album for Aus Music this May.
Mark Hawkins’ early releases on labels such as Djax Up Beats and Ugly Funk lit flares in the world of
underground techno, with a sense of humour and tougher-than-thou sonic palette enforced via his jacking live
sets. Across the following decades, Mark has delivered razor sharp cuts that encompass pretty much
anything that has an electronic heart - leaving his own unique trail for others to follow via his work for labels
as diverse as Dixon Avenue Basement Jams, Sonic Mind, Mistress Recordings, Houndstooth and Aus.

With his latest album, it feels like Mark has pushed ahead with a change of direction he started with 2021’s
‘The New Normal’. ‘Venn Diagram’ carries on this journey into uncharted lands; molten, distorted drum
assaults weave around glistening melodies, kitchen sink soul glides below fractured sound pools. Opener
‘Verblex Oscillos’ immediately demands your attention grabbing, with a so-happy-it’s-sad melody spiralling
around a cascade of tough-as-fuck dance floor destroying beats, along with ‘Isolated’s urgent combination of
strings, acid and chicago-tough electro beats.

Other cuts on the album share a similar approach, ‘Maladayfun Friction’s restless energy derives from a fusion
of skittering drums and deranged synths and ‘Still Have Time’s dreamy super saw pads and plaintive vocal
espouse a kind of wasted elegance, roaming the city nightlife in a Gucci dress and Doc Martin boots.
‘Nlasckhdsjk’ and ‘Frederikalstublieft’ propel forward with such a sleek and effervescent aesthetic, recalling
fast drives along picturesque European highways or heady take-offs to unknown urban territories. The
aesthetic becomes more elegant on the album’s centrepoint tracks ‘Rebula Conundrum’ and ‘Nlasckhdsjk’,
where optimistic bleeps, bass and 707 drums underpin jazzy chords and soaring leads.

Other tracks show the arc of Mark’s direction of travel, with soulful vocals that share a well of deep-rooted
optimism that was so evident on his breakthrough 2016 Social Housing album. ‘L.O.V.E.’ breaks into
post-Sophie territory with a catchy modulated vocal joyfully two-stepping across to the nightclub bar and
‘How Do I Know’ providing a heart rending torch song for 6am kicking-out-time refugees to help them find
their way back home.

11th album by the one-of-a-kind collective: psychedelia and free form jazz (not jazz) trigger a sophisticated excursion into weird textures with drastic turns. Dislocated dense music full of secret connections!

Kammerflimmer Kollektief – "Schemen"

Before reason prevails, invoked by those who want everything to remain as it is, Kammerflimmer Kollektief disrupts the established supply chains of sound. It seeks more interesting ways to assemble them. Trusting in this, because of the fact that every sound that still comes out of a guitar, a bass, a harmonium, drums and electronic devices has already been taken into the common mangle of meaning anyway. Enough of all that. Here, nothing is explained. Here we speak in schemes. Polished and jerky.

The images that Kammerflimmer Kollektief conjures up therefore happen not in the focus of consciousness, but rather in its outer realms. In those to which one does not give one's full attention at the moment, but which are nevertheless perceived. For example, when a leaf falls from the ground back up to the tree in the corner of your eye, and for an instant you think this is possible, before you realize it was a small bird flying into the tree; it is in just such irritating moments between perception and realization that the art of the Kollektief also unfolds. On "Schemen", familiar fragments float gently around their core – a Fender Rhodes tone, a bass figure, a guitar motif, a masterful drum shuffle, a moment of icy stasis borrowed from the harmonium playing of Christa 'Nico' Päffgen. Triggering brief associations, they slowly rush off in other directions through free jazz-informed editing work, whereupon such zones can also arise in which perception has a few tricks ready and earlier experience suddenly breaks into the now in a completely different way. Half suspected, half seen.

Half-music like Can from Cologne – also masters of improvised editing – sometimes produced a few decades ago in their in-between moments. The first minutes of "Future Days" for example, which fade in gently, sketch a barely graspable figure emerging from all directions of the room. Kammerflimmer Kollektief also engages in similarly open moments of development. Loosely, it eludes the first formative impressions, keeping itself ready for moments that do not follow any logic of appointment. This looseness in handling makes Kammerflimmer Kollektief so fluidly audible, even when dissonant peaks and free playing arise. What Karlheinz Stockhausen is to Can's understanding of composition, the recordings of The Cocoon are to Kammerflimmer Kollektief. The Cocoon, a meeting of garage psychedelics from the Hannover area with free jazzers from the Galaxie Dream Band, whose album "While The Recording Engineer Sleeps", recorded in 1985 in unguarded moments, operates in a very similar way with decentralized perceptual ambivalences and only appeared more or less secretly four years later on Wilhelm Reich Schallspeicher. Other traces of "Schemen" lead to the debut album of Quicksilver Messenger Service. The guitars of Gary Duncan and John Cipollina, which refer to themselves in an unforced manner, are instructions to let go. They don't want to be traced in every note as a solo, but they give their music a sense that the essential takes place off center, in the mutual and intuitive gift of loving attentions. Consciousness-free.

Loving turns like the little guitar phrase that, like a kind of leitmotif, is repeatedly ghosting more or less unchanged through all of the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums. A Coricidin induced, very catchy slide idea filtered out of ancient Æther, which – who knows – maybe even centuries ago found its way from somewhere to America – the old, the eerie – and from there wafted on through the ages to southern Germany, to a smoky studio in the Upper Rhine lowlands. A memory of which even the memory no longer knows what it once reminded. Unsaid, then forgotten.

In Kammerflimmer Kollektief you will also find a friend of slowly building, unhurried music, which probably would have been appreciated by the old Franz Mesmer, who 200 years ago, after tranquilizing treatments, sometimes used to play for his patients ambient melodies on the enormous glass harmonica. However, in order not to surrender completely to the flow of one's own life energy, as Mesmer had in mind with his therapies, Kammerflimmer Kollektief occasionally adds hectic tensions, gently embraced by the droning of a sine wave generator, as if a trance could briefly refesh. This old analog sine wave generator is new in the Kammerflimmer assortment of sounds. So, the art of the Kollektief likes to dock occasionally in modern times, yet with the past in mind. Mental states begin to flicker between imagination and certainty, between culture-bound art expression and coincidences: A cawing and scraping can always just be a cawing and scraping with Kammerflimmer Kollektief, the way Andy Warhol's mushroom eater just eats a mushroom.

Heike Aumüller's cover works, which illustrate all the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums, additionally act as amplifiers of unexplained refractions. Her style consists of eye-corner art that remains so, even when looked at directly. Her shots remain disquieting because they do not jolt themselves into a reassuring order, even in retrospect. Rather than evading the fear that arises when looking at them by trying to impose some irrational rhyme or reason, that fear must simply be endured. This strategy of endurance is equally applicable to the music. The trick is to let parts be parts without compulsively seeking delusional patterns that lull us into a false sense of security and in doing so, possibly delude ourselves. In this context, freedom means not having to anxiously attach a fantasized superior meaning to everything. "Schemen" has an conspiracy disintegrating effect.


b A2 Zweites Kapitel (ruckartig) [feat. Heike Aumüller]

2023 Repress

His five years at the helm of IDO (Intercontinental Dance Organization) have provided Valentino Mora the outlet to explore his concept of "active meditation", through the lexicon of deep and organically-textured ambient house and techno. Now with the inking of sub-label imprint EDO (Exothermal Dance Organization) Mora's newest output finds direct, molecular inspiration from deep in the aquaverse. Taking its name from the chemical release of heat, EDO's exothermic first EP delivers four tracks of heady, transformative techno atmospheres. Charting Mora's evolution from multi-channel acoustic recordings, samples and digital-analog hybridity, Hydrosphere EP continues his production complexity yet arrives at this point via the singular expression of modular synthesis. "Erosion" opens as a cryptic transmission from submersed entities, with haunting tone tendrils emerging from within the indigo unknown. A subtle echo of reverb softens the edge of its propulsive kick drum, creating an entrancing, enticing and unsettling journey into the deep. The snaking minimalist shimmer of the title track "Hydrosphere" evokes a landscape of frozen tundra, with a backdrop of shifting, urgent techno precision. Bewitching through endless motion and slow deliberation, chimes and pings are stretched out and warped to mind-bending effect. "Doppler Shift" takes a forthright approach, leading with prominent looped bass tones, percussion and rhythmic sweeps. Rounded shapes move rapidly through the inkinesss, forming repetitions that only intensify in pace and energy. To complete the resynthesis, "Solarized" embodies the life-giving warmth of it's name, beaming irregular shafts of illumination into dark, bass-heavy, chugging terrain, forming melodic wisps of tonal condensation.

As a self-described “sponge for club music”, London-based Bristol transplant Ian DPM has cut a singular figure in both the West Country and the capital in just a handful of years. Already situated as the tastemaker behind music curation platform Definite Party Material, co-owner of Scuffed Recordings, and Noods Radio and Rinse FM resident, Ian DPM’s emergence as a producer has marked him as an expansively curious, bass-forward figure at the bleeding edge of genre boundaries.

After retreating to his hometown of Portsmouth during lockdown to absorb the blueprints of ‘90s techno, Ian emerged with a new phase of experimentation: techno-inspired and indebted, yet eschewing loops and grids for a loose-limbed, open minded engagement of the form.

Taking inspiration from the iconic carnival rides that are inseparable from their high-octane happy hardcore soundtrack, “One For The Waltzers” begins with a distant rumble of muffled breakbeats that inch ever closer. But rather than dizzying lights and in-the-red maximalism, “One For The Waltzers” gradually reveals its knowingly deep shimmy and groove. It is a drum-heavy and rhythmic production, masterfully using negative space to showcase every contour of its slowed-down rave horns and acid house synth lines.

“KE01” inhabits the flipside of the same sonic world “One For The Waltzers”. Here, feverish percussive energy contrasts against pensive melodic synth chords. It’s a heady warehouse affair, familiar and complex, referential yet contemporary, and only adds to the momentum that Ian DPM is gathering.

“This music is staggeringly original and innovative, and while it’s possible to locate it in a chain of circumstance that links it to ‘Industrial’ music, P16.D4 indulged in none of the empty cliches associated with the genre, worked incredibly hard, and seem to have been aiming at a form of sound art that was much more profound, varied, subversive, and potentially dangerous. Kuhe In 1/2 Trauer’s accompanying credits indicate their radical approach to making music: lots of improvisation, lots of live electronics, extensive use of tape-loops, some conventional instrumentation, and much that isn’t – like the milk churn on ‘Paris, Morgue’ or the use of baking tray and washing machine elsewhere. Even when guitars, drums or keyboards are used, they’re played very weirdly. It’s not even made clear who was doing what; the main credit is ‘Concept,’ which I assume means that one of the three devised the framework in which the noise would operate itself, and while RLW gets the lion’s share of these credits, a lot of the cuts are evenly divided among the team and I have no doubt that the group operated in a very democratic or libertarian manner. None of this prepares you for the insane and troubling sounds that reach your ears, composed with scant regard for conventional logic and following an exciting, absurdist path, especially in the matter of tape edits and juxtapositions of recordings.” - Ed Pinsent, The Sound Projector.

“Though this German group started out as a the new wave band P.D., by the time of Kuhe in 1/2 Trauer, their first LP under the P16.D4 name from 1984, they had developed far beyond into extremely experimental music similar to other post-industrial artists working with abstract avant-garde soundscapes. There’s a bleak industrial feel to the gritty, lo-fi electronics and tape loops, while the group throws in enough curve balls to keep it interesting. On some pieces, strange, looped choirs bubble out of throbbing pulses and drones of feedback, while others have clanging and clattering, and elements of musique concrète and improvisation blur the boundaries even further. The opening track, “Default Value,” is one of those disorienting pieces with noises flying everywhere, while “Paris Morgue” takes excerpts from one of their old P.D. tracks and messes it up with additional instruments, while the ungainly titled fourth track throws in a heavy texture of percussive noises to create an edgy ambience about to teeter off the edge, and the even darker and more ambient title track takes the tension even further. Arrhythmic and amorphous and capable at moments of becoming quite noisy and abrasive, while at others far more somber and quiet, Kuhe in 1/2 Trauer is quite a fascinating release.” - Rolf Semprebon / AMG

P16.D4 was a German electronic noise music collective, active primarily from 1980 to 1988. P16.D4 embraced tape cut-ups, musique concrète, endless recycling and transformation of previously published material, and many long-distance collaborations with like-minded artists such as DDAA, Vortex Campaign, Nurse With Wound, and Merzbow. Their active participation in the international industrial tape scene yielded collaborative output such as their release Distruct, where bands such as Nurse with Wound, Nocturnal Emissions, Die Tödliche Doris, and The Haters provided the source material. The longest-term collaboration was with the installation and conceptual artist Achim Wollscheid, who used P16.D4 sounds as the basis for LPs he recorded under the name SBOTHI. Ralf Wehowsky, the only constant member of the group, later released solo material under the alias RLW.

Members of P16.D4 were also involved with Selektion, a collective of people involved with sound as well as the visual arts. Selektion published LPs, CDs, books, visual art and design.

The collective worked in a strongly improvised, spontaneous and anti-professional way, using acoustic and electronic instruments, using existing sound fragments, duplicating and alienating them, using repetition, distortion, changes in speed and playing direction. For this they used not only sounds of other artists but also their own material from earlier productions. Late works of the collective are associated with musique concrete.

Wipe your blade clean. The bloodline of Eastern European kosmische and groundbreaking, grinding cinematic psych rock finally emerges from fifty years of forbidden forestland to fill your thirsty grails. Poland’s prime progressive provocateurs Żuławski and Korzyński finally expose the jagged roots of Possession and The Silver Globe and give the devil his due via this historical vinyl release.

If an opening strapline that reads “Forget everything that you thought you knew about the history of psychedelic rock and horror movies” appeals to you, then further potentially hyperbolic phrases like “Lost Grail” and “Banned Forever” will surely clinch the deal, leaving the hugely significant wider context of this dream come true release surplus to requirement. But as we hope you have come to expect from Finders Keepers releases “The devil is in the detail” and the fact that any mention of the perpetually elusive original master tapes to a 1972 project entitled Diabeł and the phrase “Holy Grail” have become synonymously associated only adds the twisted irony that surrounds this genuine masterpiece of both aforementioned fields.

For those fastidious enough to pursue the hunt, these unearthed recordings represent the crowning glory of the lifelong unison of Maestro Andrzej Żuławski and filmmaker Andrzej Korzyński, two genuine mavericks of Polish experimental cinema who challenged artistic and societal norms, on both sides of a politically restricted regime and on an international artistic stage, without compromise. Friends since childhood, Korzyński and Żuławski may have become divided by limelight and geography (Żuławski the intrepid emigre), but they remained united in their kaleidoscopic creative vision, resulting in a fractured stream of troublesome and mind-bending golden era collaborations such as Possession, The Silver Globe, and Third Part Of The Night. This long-awaited liberation of the psychedelic masterpiece known as Diabeł finally completes the duo’s full vista with what many consider the most vital piece of the prism.

»Holo« by the US-American three-piece Kiln, first released in 1998, is one of those rare records that managed to carve out a niche of its own while also building bridges to variety of genres like Chicago-style post-rock, the ambient mysticism of projects like Rapoon or the music made at the intersection of shoegaze, and electronic music in the late 1990s. Lush textures, subtle rhythms, jazzy inflections and electronic experimentation seamlessly blend into each other over the course of the eleven tracks. This reissue through the German label Keplar makes the fully revised version, self-released by the group in 2007 under the name »Holo re/lux,« available on vinyl for the very first time. »Twenty-five years later this newly mastered vinyl edition is evidence that the sound of ›Holo‹ continues to attract like-minded listeners,« says member Clark Rehberg III. »Which on many levels means that our mission was successful.«

Rehberg had embarked on this mission together with Kevin Hayes and Kirk Marrison in 1993. They had first worked together under the name Fibreforms as a live trio that used treated guitars, kit drums, and tapes of found sound to explore the balance between band composition and recording experiments, while Marrison made heavy use of the Akai S612 sampler as a fabricating strategy with the project Waterwheel. »Kiln seemed to encapsulate the evolution and melding of those previous approaches to one that insisted on the continual opening up of the compositional process, allowing more of the mystery that can be discovered through studio experiments—and accidents—to become important elements of creating our music,« says Rehberg of the trio that is still going strong after three decades. »The word Kiln implies heat and transformation, an attitude that we apply to every sound we use—we begin with notes and performance and then mosaic with shape and colour.«

»Holo« followed up on the trio’s debut self-titled EP that had been recorded in the summer of 1996. »That same year, during a lull in our collabs, Kirk began building pieces on a low-memory Mac using an early 8-channel DAW,« explains Rehberg. Enchanted by the unprecedented fidelity and energy of those recordings, the three reconvened to build upon them and make more music in that manner. »I’d say our intention was no different than any other time: create something immersive and compelling: dense melodic blasts of uniquely constructed but ultimately accessible audio moments.« The group worked individually and in pairs for about 18 months while being spread across the United States. »We poured everything into it that we had at the time, working dead-end jobs by day and on audio in every other open moment. I remember the struggle of that process, but also the pure joy as we pulled down countless moments of magic while the pieces took shape.«

Rehberg says that he still hears »a time-stamp of those efforts and the belief that we were creating a special audio experience« when listening back to »Holo,« a record the band itself chose to revise almost a decade after its initial release. »Ultimately we just felt those pieces needed more impact and we had the tools and ability to make that happen,« he explains. 16 years after that and a quarter of a century after it first introduced Kiln as a force to be reckoned with, the remastered version feels indeed timeless. It is both a snapshot of the first extensive album project by a group whose bond is still »diamond strong,« as Rehberg puts it, and a record that continues to sound fresh, if not visionary also today.

All tracks composed and recorded by Kevin Hayes, Kirk Marrison, Clark Rehberg III.
Originally released on Thalassa in 1998.
Remaster by Stephan Mathieu. Vinyl cut by LUPO.
Cover art by Kirk Marrison & Clark Rehberg III.
Text by Kristoffer Cornils.

2023 Repress

Perc returns to Perc Trax for his first original release of 2020 and his first full EP since 'Three Tracks To Send To Your Ghost Producer' was released back in March 2019. 'Fire In Negative' includes three tracks adapted from his live set at Reaktor's Unpolished event in Amsterdam earlier of this year, plus another completed directly after that set when the atmosphere and energy of that event was still fresh in his mind.

Title track and opener 'Fire In Negative' fuses crushing kicks with covert art gallery recordings and the crackling flames of the title, topped off with Ventolin-esque sine tones. Another statement track from Perc, sidestepping the current trend for rave revivalism whilst matching its energy toe to toe.

'E Mono' is a classic Perc drum track, skipping big builds for an unexpected switch in the middle section, whilst 'Snare' goes in the opposite direction, breaking down into two minutes of abrasive feedback before finally kicking back in.

After 6 years and 7 volumes, the Tramp Records crew invites you to join them on yet another enlightening journey into soulful Jazz, Folk and Funk from the 1970s.

This 8th volume contains nineteen Jazz, Soul and Folk nuggets from between the late 1960s and the late 1970s. One of the many highlights is the opening track by Bobby Cole which is most likely one of the finest independently produced vocal jazz recordings ever put on wax. So true. Oscar Brown Jr. and Mark Murphy sends its regards. But that's just the beginning. Praise Poems Vol.8 covers a wide selection of genres, from big band jazz (Helmut Pistor's Big Rock Jazz Band and Germany's own Ladykiller) to psych-pop (Portraits in Sound, Harve and Charee and Allison & Shaffer), from folk-rock (Flash, Garndarf and the incredible Fang Buzbee) to AOR (The Menagerie and Penn Central), completing the set with a handful of melancholic folk beauties, most notably Hans Hass Jr.'s mind-blowing "Welche Farbe hat der Wind".

Very few compilation series' release as many as eight volumes and those that get that far often start to run out of quality music or meander too far from their original artistic direction. That certainly is not the case with the "Praise Poems" series which leaps from strength-to-strength as our team of compilers and researchers continue to unearth lost and often overlooked music from an era long gone. Many of these records were released in small quantities as private pressings or by small regional labels. Obviously, those labels neither had the budget, expertise, nor options to promote their releases in a sweeping way. Therefore the majority of these artists failed to find the wider audience their music so richly deserved.

In the midst of a wave of hybridizing ambient, drone, folklore and experimental electroacoustic music, Roxane Métayer has gained a cult following with only a couple of releases to date. Following her debut album (Éclipse Des Ocelles) for Morc with a split EP and a limited cassette for Wabi-Sabi, Roxane now turns to Marionette with her intimate narrative based multi-instrumental recordings, a match made in the heavens if you ask us. With her violin, woodwind, voice and various effect pedals, Métayer takes the listener on a newfound journey into the ancient, medieval, and primordial.

Perlée de sève is Métayer’s second full length, a sophomore to the critically acclaimed Éclipse Des Ocelles, where Métayer continues to sonically realize the map of the fictional habitats that inhabit her mind. Coming from a background of studying narration and different animation mediums, it’s no surprise that her recordings evoke vivid imagery and carry a trace of the environment they were conceived in. The instruments morph as extensions of her body and ultimately become new organs, a means of communicating these bio-memetic stories and creating a dialogue between herself and her surroundings. Meandering melodies intertwine with accompanying drones, mantra-like fragments and a handfeel percussion lend themselves as living and breathing elements in Roxane’s beguiling and spellbinding anecdotes.

Roxane is an observer of the world, her projects conceived from elements that inform her reality, such as the organic imagery and sounds of nature, then transforming that into a strangely familiar parallel universe that would not exist otherwise. Whether it's active research or taking her instruments to the forest, Métayer opens up her imagination by taking this mental journey to discover locations, creatures, and time periods then channeling that into her own fairy tales. The album and track titles act as a portal into those worlds, like chapters in a book where the protagonists are animalia, plantae, and fungi. As Métayer wrote in an interview: “Stories are a privileged way to create an awareness of a specific subject.”

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

‘Living Rooms’ is a full-blooded debut of rich, playful, experimental pop from the artist Fe Salomon – full of unabashedly big songs and sumptuously big sounds. Fe’s soulful and arresting lead vocals weave amongst soaring strings and big band brass sections; clattering percussion and disjunctive rhythms; dirty electro synth and butchered guitar. A collaboration with producer and contemporary classical composer Johnny Parry, ‘Living Rooms’ is a true pop album with a distinct, exuberant and deeply generous sound.

Born in Northampton, Fe moved to London at 18 for a place at Theatre College; but soon left to concentrate on music and songwriting, falling quickly into the Camden music scene, and earning her a prolific career as a singer. Building on her diverse musical background and honing her unusual sonic style, this album has been percolating at the back of Fe’s mind for a long time. The perfect storm of personal and external factors thus created the moment to make it. ‘Living Rooms’ tells stories of multiple lives lived and lost

in the city, of friendships that meant everything and the characters you’ll never meet again, of transience and loneliness, and of getting by and moving on.

At the forefront of the album is an organic and fiercely honest lead vocal performance. However, Fe permits her voice to be twisted and distorted into the fabric of the instrumentation. The un-doctored lead vocals are frequently haunted by angels and demons, created through Fe’s uninhibited willingness to this manipulation, and capturing the more visceral emotions within the expression of the human voice.

‘Living Rooms’ navigates a wide spectrum of sounds and emotions. Take album opener “Polka Dot”, a track that mixes emotive vocals with an avant-garde alt/pop production to conjure a cut as stylish as it is shrouded in shadowy mystique. A track “about mourning innocence, and the darkness that’s picked up along the way, with an ‘up yours’ sarcastic tone, and not wanting to grow old”, it sets the scene for a twisting collection that up-ends expectations at every opportunity.

Elsewhere, the chunky hooks of “Super Human”, the sci-fi/country/big band of “Wired of Caffeine”, or the intimately sung vocals and Vaughan-Williams-esque string sections of “Taxicabs”, all contribute to an album that evolves like a rich and constantly surprising tapestry.

Although the conception of the album was a frenzy of wild experimentation. The album is faithful too, and celebratory of many joyous pop traditions; but searches for ways to reinterpret the familiar. And no less so than on the off-kilter centre-piece “Quintessential England”. Through wry lyricism and vivid imagination, the track paints a lucid, if lonely, depiction of a life lived out in the sticks; one that ultimately arrives at the conclusion that perhaps “the grass isn’t always greener”.

Gifted with the kind of superpowers that have blessed Alison Goldfrapp with her unwavering glam-pop allure and Stevie Nicks with that invincible soul, Fe Salomon’s empowering first release will prove she’s cut from the same cloth and ready to be your newest musical hero.

Israeli artist Moscoman returns to Damian Lazarus' Crosstown Rebels imprint with Adventura, featuring a collaboration with alternative and electroclash band Zoot Woman and a remix from Love Attack label bass Alan Dixon. Transmitting twinkling house to emotive indie dance, each artist leaves a stellar stamp on Moscoman's sinuous release.

As summer draws to a close, Moscoman looks forward to the next chapter in his trajectory, undeterred by the change of seasons. The title track opens with a muscular kickdrum and organic percussion before an enchanting melody glide between the beats, igniting a dreamy, tripped-out feel. It's made for an open-minded dancefloor. Moscoman collaborates with Zoot Woman on Reinvention feat. Zoot Woman, blending the airy vocals of Johnny Blake with a shimmering synthline. One for the indie heads. Alan Dixon's remix follows suit with a cosmic disco offering, reworking the stems with verve and serving a slice of strut energy.

Moscoman is a producer, DJ and label boss. He heads up the imprint Disco Halal, showcasing the sounds of house, nu-disco and post-punk supplied by artists from all walks of life. With an ear to merge traditional tones from different dance music cultures worldwide, Moscoman garners an explorative approach to Disco Halal. So far, the label's discography boasts tunes by Simple Symmetry, Red Axes, Trikk and Auntie Flo. His DJ sets slink into long, storytelling sessions of low-slung grooves and post-punk flavoured beats, as heard in Space Miami, Panorama Bar, Glastonbury and Pacha Ibiza, amongst other iconic spots. British act Zoot Woman consists of seminal producers Adam Blake, Johnny Blake and Stuart Price. Since the mid-90s, the group have produced and performed electronica, alternative, electroclash, rock and synthpop. Acclaimed for their scintillating live shows, the group remains one of the most remarkable bands from the UK. London-based Alan Dixon is a producer and DJ celebrated for his disco edits. Labels like Watergate, Life and Death, Keinemusik and Pets Recordings have released his tunes alongside his own imprint, Love Attack.

Eclectic Italian quartet Eugenia Post Meridiem are ready to reveal their sophomore full-length record, a rather magnificent musical masterpiece. The gloriously kaleidoscopic, dazzling celebration of sound ‘like i need tension’ is available everywhere now. Demonstrated over eight tracks, the all encompassing, musical odyssey, ‘like i need tension’ features initial single ‘willpower’; which burst across our radar with lashings of personality, and became the introduction to the now familiar Indie outfit. Next up was the punchy and fearless ‘around my neck’ and last but by no means least came the intriguing, alluring ‘whisper’, the calm before the sophomore album storm. Gifted with a further five previously unheard gems, listeners certainly have plenty to sink their teeth into. With focus track ‘crucial spring’ traversing the spectrums of shadow, the progressive and percussive ‘unchained will’, the slow voluminous ballad ‘ocean flows’ and the infectious, chaotic energy of ‘tiny perspectives’ and ‘mazes of gazes’. Oozing with iridescence, flavour and texture, there’s something to suit all manners of music fans. Completed over a span of two years plus a two week post-lockdown writing and recording stint, it was then that like i need tension truly came to life in a small converted barn near the village of Montaldo Bormida, in northern Italy. “It was a totally collaborative process... All the composing was done together, right there in the room.” and thus, like i need tension was born. “Tension is a powerful force. It drives things forwards, its friction producing interesting and unexpected results. Above all, it fuels creativity, inspiring and focusing in equal measure.” Such togetherness and chemistry as a band truly shines through across the eight track project. There’s a bold, fearless tenacity to experiment and to go against the tide as each track is filled with quality, curiosity and ingenuity. With purpose and intention studded throughout, like i need tension is as poetic and reflective as it is meditative and utterly transcendent. Placing its roots somewhere in the mystical universe of Hiatus Kaiyote, Christine and the Queens, PYJÆN and Tame Impala. Eugenia Post Meridiem’s sound holds an intrinsic synergy, refreshingly intangible, allowing space for the listener’s own interpretation and understanding. The depth they venture as a collective rewards those who journey beyond the initial passive listening. With technical structures, composition and developed time signatures just waiting to be unearthed, depicted and understood, Eugenia Post Meridiem offer a treasure trove for the adventurous and devoted musical palate yet still remain accessible and incredibly generous to all those who decide to listen. “And so it is that all eight tracks hang together beautifully, linked not by some overarching concept or narrative, but simply a band exploring their talent and the vast space afforded by an open-minded approach.”

The story about the lost recordings of Ghia continues: Following the recently released "At The Hilton" single, our label is extremely proud to present "Curaçao Blue", the band's first full-length album. And it is simply mind-blowing, to say the least! The LP features 10 unreleased tracks in a similar Balearic vein as featured on the single.

Incredibly, it was only just a few months ago that these tracks were rediscovered on some old tapes by band members Lutz Boberg and Frank Simon. Could anyone imagine that two physics students from a small German town could create such beautiful, thrilling music in their home studio? Although the technical aspects in the creation of the band's earliest tracks may have been straightforward, the outcome is high-quality, creative, modern jazz-funk, with one step in the electro-funk genre due to the use of a drum machine and synthesizer basslines. The album features mostly 4-track recordings, based mainly on the musicians' weapons of choice: a DX21 keyboard (later updated to the legendary DX7) and a guitar. Many things had to be done live in just one take, though the artists were unafraid of using overdubbing techniques to weave their instrumental journeys. The DIY aesthetics just add more beauty and uniqueness to the songs and compositions, and the result is an extremely harmonic work of undeniable musicality. Ghia delivers Balearic jazz-funk at its finest.

Though the music was recorded in Germany, Ghia had a true relationship with the Balearic region and effortlessly applied the vibes to their compositions. As a side note, one track on their earliest demo tapes was called "3 AM at Moëf Gaga" and we did not know what it meant. The band explained that Moëf Gaga is a nightclub on the Spanish coast that is actually still active today. Boberg and Simon, the two original band members of Ghia, visited the club in the early 80s and spent their holiday close to the sea. With their music, they intended to create a summery vibe, capturing a relaxed and soulful view of the seashore, likely with a drink in hand... Perhaps a Blue Curaçao?

The album starts with a revised version of the title track. The drums in this take are much punchier, and we thought that it would fit just perfectly as an introduction. We continue with the already classic "Down At The Hilton" that was featured on the single, but like us, we are sure you could happily listen to this track on repeat. Next up, "Jump In The Water" opens with a catchy delayed melody, which develops into another perfect jazz-funk piece with an extended guitar solo. Another remarkable song might be "In The Fast Lane". As the name suggests, an uptempo number, now with an electro-funk beat combined with speedy keyboard solos that almost sounds like a marimba. On side B, the album keeps the relaxed seaside vibes flowing. To round out the album, we are treated to two pieces that originated after the return home, with memories of the Spanish coast fading but still lingering, likely recorded between 1986 and 1988. Both are instrumental versions of songs to be used later for studio sessions with their new band member, singer Lisa Ohm (who you will hear on Ghia's next album!). On "Crystal Silence In Dub" we get a perfect downtempo groove, positively reminding us of the sound of the 1980s UK funk scene. The album ends with "Keep Your House In Disorder", here as an earlier, rougher, and funkier take than on the final vocal version, which could be found on the B-side of the "What's Your Voodoo" single.

We hope you love this album as much as we do! Nothing like this has yet been released out of Germany. We hardly can recall any privately produced, home recorded jazz-funk/fusion from the 1980s as free, creative, and uninhibited as Ghia's Curaçao Blue. The playful and creative approach, coupled with those nostalgic tones should make this LP an essential pick for any record collection, whether you are a DJ, a home listener, a music lover, or a modern jazz-funk/synth-funk aficionado.

The album is out now on The Outer Edge, the new label by record collector DJ Scientist, aka John Raincoatman. We also want to thank Frederic Stader for his awesome work mastering and sound restoration of the material on this LP.

Human Remains follows Creatures of the Deep and Black Sarabande as the final installment of a trilogy of piano based recordings by Robert Haigh for Unseen Worlds. The trilogy marks the end of the late era of solo albums by Haigh before he steps away from music production. The title, Human Remains, was initially based on a painting of the same name by Haigh that is suggestive of an ancient structure resolute in the wake of overwhelming forces. As a metaphor for our current times, it could be interpreted as human frailty in the face of nature's unyielding dominion. Conversely, it could represent the persistence of human spirit and resourcefulness in the midst of catastrophe and upheaval. The album opens with 'Beginner's Mind' - a semi-improvised motif develops into an impressionistic refrain. This is followed by "Twilight Flowers" and "Waltz On Treated Wire" - intimate, monochrome piano portraits. Later tracks such as "Lost Albion" and "Signs Of Life" build on skeletal piano motifs with subtle electronic washes, textures and field sounds. The album ends with the elegiac "On Terminus Hill" where a stately piano refrain explores a series of sparse harmonic variations evoking a sense of closure.

Welcome to ‘STR4TASFEAR, Bluey and Gilles’ second STR4TA album released.

A collection of songs, melodies, grooves and sounds that sit perfectly in the brand new music world it’s part of. Gilles and Bluey are both men who emerged into the Brit funk world. They were both part of this truly thrilling chapter in the story of homegrown music; which manifests itself here in a sumptuous mixture of twanging basslines, spacey synth melodies, clicking beats and wispy, ethereal voices.

And for this new set, they’ve got a few like-minded souls along to join the party. Multi-talented Neo-soul Godfather Omar, and celebrated vocalist, Valerie Etienne, both represent Brit funk’s first bounce. Also welcomed in to the fold is musical polymath, Emma-Jean Thackray, Brighton duo Anushka and Floridian trumpeter/vocalist Theo Croker. ‘STR4TASFEAR’ is Gilles and Bluey’s wide-open window into a timeless, wonderful world of Brit funk (Words by Mark Webster, 2022).

STR4TA has received a rapturous reception, with standout tracks ‘We Like It’ achieving over 1 million streams on Spotify and ‘Rhythm In Your Mind’ exceeding 12 weeks on Jazz FM’s playlist. They have been heavily supported by BBC 6Music, The Guardian, Wax Poetics, The Vinyl Factory, CLASH, Télérama (FR), Radio Nova (FR), Rolling Stones Italy & Japan. Most recent singles “When You Call Me” & “Night Flight”, taken from the upcoming album, has already received support from Rampage (BBC 1Xtra), Jamz Supernova (BBC 6 Music), Deb Grant (Jazz FM) plus NTS, Mi-Soul, Solar Radio, KCRW (US), KEXP (US), Concrete Islands, CRACK Magazine, and Nu-Funk (Spotify).

Welcome to ‘STR4TASFEAR, Bluey and Gilles’ second STR4TA album released.

A collection of songs, melodies, grooves and sounds that sit perfectly in the brand new music world it’s part of. Gilles and Bluey are both men who emerged into the Brit funk world. They were both part of this truly thrilling chapter in the story of homegrown music; which manifests itself here in a sumptuous mixture of twanging basslines, spacey synth melodies, clicking beats and wispy, ethereal voices.

And for this new set, they’ve got a few like-minded souls along to join the party. Multi-talented Neo-soul Godfather Omar, and celebrated vocalist, Valerie Etienne, both represent Brit funk’s first bounce. Also welcomed in to the fold is musical polymath, Emma-Jean Thackray, Brighton duo Anushka and Floridian trumpeter/vocalist Theo Croker. ‘STR4TASFEAR’ is Gilles and Bluey’s wide-open window into a timeless, wonderful world of Brit funk (Words by Mark Webster, 2022).

STR4TA has received a rapturous reception, with standout tracks ‘We Like It’ achieving over 1 million streams on Spotify and ‘Rhythm In Your Mind’ exceeding 12 weeks on Jazz FM’s playlist. They have been heavily supported by BBC 6Music, The Guardian, Wax Poetics, The Vinyl Factory, CLASH, Télérama (FR), Radio Nova (FR), Rolling Stones Italy & Japan. Most recent singles “When You Call Me” & “Night Flight”, taken from the upcoming album, has already received support from Rampage (BBC 1Xtra), Jamz Supernova (BBC 6 Music), Deb Grant (Jazz FM) plus NTS, Mi-Soul, Solar Radio, KCRW (US), KEXP (US), Concrete Islands, CRACK Magazine, and Nu-Funk (Spotify).

Emerging from a live recording at St.Mary's Episcopal Cathedral in 2021, Alliyah Enyo’s ‘Echo’s Disintegration’ is a transformational project; a coded reflection on loss, metamorphosis and rebirth.

It’s a work of two parts, each incarnation informed by the parameters of the recording environment. In the initial live performance, Alliyah harnesses the organic echo and reverb formed by the vast open space of the cathedral. Her luminous vocals break through a dense sea of layered noise, a reverberating wailing drenched in heartache.

Her words are fractured and frayed, broken into segments, and enshrouded in mysticism. Yet through the ambiguity, there’s an innate spirituality to the work; iridescent melodies are heightened by the imposing presence of the surroundings.

The five studio tracks, made in retrospect, carry the live performance within the DNA of their reinterpreted sounds and loops. Recorded in Glasgow’s renowned Green Door Studio, constructed reel-to-reel tape loops further fragment and transform compositions, evoking the intoxicating tape feedback of Eliane Raidgue and the harrowing loops of William Basinski.

There’s a radiant clarity to the recordings, Alliyah’s voice implemented as the guiding instrument, the heady sensuality of her vocals layered and echoed in enchanting formation. Through the agony and longing, we reach reincarnation in the culminating euphoria of ‘the healer’. We’re left amongst the blissful reverberations of an awakened soul.

Echo’s Disintegration is the debut album by Alliyah Enyo. The work has received early support from Jack Rollo (NTS), Lucinda Chua (NTS), Pako Vega (Fade Radio, Athens), Elina Tapio (Radio Radio, Amsterdam), Conna Harrawy (INDEX:records) and Martyna Basta (Unsound festival).


Alliyah Enyo - Bio
Alliyah Enyo is an Edinburgh-based artist. She comes from a visual-arts background which is evident in her theatrical live performances that encompass elaborate stage design and choreographed dance. She recently performed her 9-month collaborative project ‘Selkie Reflections’ for Hidden Door festival, working with dancers and classical musicians to explore Siren and Selkie myth. She has performed at multiple venues across Scotland and previously supported Erika De Casier.


Somewhere Between Tapes - Bio
Somewhere Between Tapes is a Glasgow-based record label, formed in 2022 via connections made at local community radio station Clyde Built Radio and at Green Door Studio’s sound workshop.

The label is primarily drawn to working with artists who use experimental processes, often as part of an interdisciplinary practice, where live performance and visual accompaniments are intrinsic to the work. Our focus is on diaristic, sensitive approaches to sound, from ethereal ambient to avant-folk and psychedelic-infused electronics.

The label is run by Lizzie Urquhart and Tim Dalzell. Both are residents at Clyde Built and have contributed to Mutant Radio, Refuge Worldwide, Lyl Radio and Rinse FM. Collaboratively and independently their shows are characterized by their reflective nature, designed for deep listening. This is supplemented by their online mix series ‘Somewhere’, and involvement in co:clear; a new collaborative listening series formed with Conna Haraway of INDEX:Records that commenced with a performance by Berlin-based artist Perila.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Ranging from sanguine emotional clarity to distortion and unrest, Wow Sailor voyages through sunlight and storms in this mindful and explorative album. Happy Fear is an intricate tapestry of emotional experience, where fear and joy clash heads in the pursuit of self-understanding. Scattered field recordings of literature, ambiance and chance encounters provide atmospheric depth to enrich a resonant and meditative soundscape.

This tale begins with fond yet powerful nostalgia, before segueing into a range of hybrid instrumental explorations in which guitar, voice, violin, and trumpet blossom alongside refined electronic foundations. The album closes off with indulgent melancholia reminiscent of the opening, providing lifelike circularity to the album.

All songs remain connected; one leading into another without pause or silence. This urges the listener to digest the work in a single sitting as elements of the story seem intrinsically connected.

The first half is studded with gems of atmospheric conversation and recordings, providing a living and textured environment for the crafted synthetic sounds of Wow Sailor to evolve. Most songs are free from percussive structures, but In Her Gaze breaks the mold with clear percussive dictate. The middle and latter titles are connected by ominous frequencies that err on the darker side of curiosity - encouraging exploration into the transformative power of fear.

All in all, the work glimmers with spontaneity and diversity that resembles real-life experience. Carefully crafted sonic interplays bare semblance to the fluctuating emotional life of the ever sensitive and sentient human being.

Dugnad Rec sits at the helm of yet another wonderfully creative and philosophical work. This release gives verity to the artistic integrity, sound design, and mental exploration of the label. Wow Sailor’s work radiates an enticing, authentic, and indelible mark of individuality.

Following on from last year’s acclaimed Sylva Sylvarum, the epic double LP from Ora Clementi (her collaborative project with James Rushford), crys cole returns to Black Truffle with Other Meetings. Originally commissioned and released on cassette by Boomkat Editions in 2021, Other Meetings is a major addition to the body of carefully hewn solo work cole has released over the last decade, offering up two side-long suites of her radically intimate approach to sound. After many years dominated by touring and travel, cole found herself in lockdown in her Berlin apartment, working in a limited space with minimal equipment. Digging through archives of recordings taken overseas and exploring the sonic potential hidden in the objects surrounding her (including a coffee pot and a vase of dying flowers), she crafted what in her liner notes she calls ‘an internal dérive, a journey that drifted through many places without a defining compass’. Totalling over 50 minutes, the two pieces unfold at an unhurried pace, each containing four individually titled subsections. Beginning with a sequence of the highly amplified small sounds characteristic of much of cole’s work, the opening moments of ‘The time between two durations of sleep’ are underpinned by a gentle rocking motion, weaving together contact mic crunch, metallic resonance, glimpses of bird song, and isolated drum machine hits, the sonic space expanding and contracting as focus moves between elements. Briefly side-lined by a tactile but unplaceable sizzling, this complex weave of voices then returns in a kind of dubbed-out ‘version’, the percussive accents echoing around the stereo space. In one of the record’s most beautiful and unexpected moments, these sounds are joined by a sparse melodic line performed on a broken 1980s digital synth, the vaguely New Age timbres being taken on a long, tonally ambiguous wander. Cole’s immersion in memories of travel comes to the fore in the final section of the first side, titled ‘Wat Paknam’ after a royal temple in Bangkok, where snatches of voices, ringing bells and distant waves of chanting blur together with synth tones into an increasingly abstracted wave of sound. The second side, ‘Slices of cake’, opens in a similarly hallucinatory outdoor space of echoing bird song and liquified traffic before abruptly zooming in on a microscopic world of subtly processed and highly amplified objects, explored with a starkness and quiet insistence that calls to mind the fringe not-quite-concrète of outsiders like Paul A.R. Timmermans or Knud Viktor, whose obsessive interrogation of dripping water might also serve as a point of reference for the following sub-section, the aptly titled ‘magischer Abfluss’ (magic drain).

While Other Meetings develops many aspects of cole’s previous work – the hyper-magnification of small gestures, the unsettling edits and fades partly inspired by hypnagogic states, the location recordings smeared into oneiric haze – it is almost as if these pieces are somehow songs, the remnants of an evaporated music of which nothing remains except isolated hits from a synthetic drum, a handful of notes, or simply a duration of emptied atmosphere. Radically reductive yet deeply musical, Other Meetings is a major work from an artist driven by an uncompromising and idiosyncratic vision.

Presented with an inner sleeve with photos and liner notes from the composer and remastered audio.

Walter Smith III and Matthew Stevens are two musicians at the forefront
of developments in jazz and improvised music, listing the likes of
Terence Blanchard, Ambrose Akinmusire, Esperanza Spalding and
Christian Scott as collaborators
The pair started working together in 2017, and four years later, they're back for
the third iteration of their highly commended In Common project. Previous guests
include Nate Smith, Linda May Han Oh and Marcus Gilmore; on 'In Common 3',
Kris Davis takes the piano chair vacated by Micah Thomas, and completing the
lineup are two legends of the game - Dave Holland and Terri Lyne
Carrington.What's new, third time around? "It's longer, freer, and yet more
spontaneous," says Smith. The successful In Common formula - inventive 'onepage songs' written with specific musicians in mind - disguises the through-line
that uniquely shapes this record: "The spotlight is on the community of musicians
as a whole," Smith comments. "The general vibe is sculpted by the musicians'
interpretations of what we bring in." Davis' influential presence means the project
leans into the aesthetics of free improvisation for the first time; the resulting
soundworld lends itself to electronic manipulation, another first for the series.
The span of fifteen tracks showcases the duo's knack for reinvention, slipping
into unfamiliar contexts without losing sight of the album's focused essence.
Smith is keen to emphasise the standalone nature of the divergent In Common
recordings. Some aspects carry through though, like their commitment to
remembering lost influences - opener 'Shine' serves as both a thank you and an
acknowledgement to McCoy Tyner, Wallace Roney, Chick Corea, Jimmy Health
and Ellis Marsalis. That introduces the remaining fourteen tracks, that divide
nearly exactly into spontaneously constructed ideas that introduce fully
composed tracks.

France is the trio of Jeremie Sauvage on electric bass, Mathieu Tilly on drums and Yann Gourdon on amplified hurdy-gurdy. They play one note / one rhythm producing energetic performances reminiscent of the early collaborations between Faust and Tony Conrad. Creativly recycled influences result in intense shows with pounding overtones and repetitive pulsing rhythms. Loud straight and trance-inducing.

The pertinency of the recordings only slowly appear On Occitanie" in the mass of sound, the rhythmic repetition and the elongated drones. The hurdy-gurdy forces you deeper, highlighting points of microtonal flux, cracking open the single note, the nodding rhythm, to imply the presence of every note, every sound, inside it. The insensible evolution, lurks in a corner of noise and finally imposes itself slowly on careful listening.

The band members of France perform in various other projects: Tanz Mein Herz, Toad and Jérico, all are member of the collective La Novià, an organisation based in Haute-Loire which brings together professional musicians and is a place for reflection and experimentation around traditional and / or experimental music.

In 2009, France was invited to play in Pau, a city far south-west of France, next to spain, by the people running Pagans Musica, a like-minded traditionnal-oriented group of people, also bent on educational issues concerning the local music and dialect: Occitan and on fusioning traditional musics and rock related sounds and instruments. They had set up a show for France and their band Artus and originaly wanted to have Acid Mother's Temple join the bill. The japanese band had done versions of songs coming from their village (eg. "La Nòvia") but weren't touring near France so instead they invited Duo Ancelin Rouzier as the third act, a band both Artus and France were also very fond of.

Pagans had everything set-up for the concert to be recorded and as France had plenty of time for sound-check, they went on to record the Pau" album in the afternoon, taking a thirty seconds pause in the middle of the session so as to mark both sides of the vinyl. The Occitanie Lp is the recording of the live set later that night, with no cut and a longer, more savage performance.

Super limited edition pressed on heavyweight 180g vinyl housed in a picture sleeve and clear plastic outer sleeve – never to be repressed. Only 175 units.

Tokyo-based DJ, producer and sound artist Yuu Udagawa inaugurates the freshly launched Cyphon Recordings with her debut EP, ‘Forever’.

Growing up on a cocktail of everything from rock, hip-hop and Latin jazz to techno and house, Yuu’s immersive musical output draws inspiration from this diverse pool of influences to create ‘uplifting and healing’ music for the mind and body. There’s an elegance and sophistication to her productions, which stems from her desire to make music guided by the Golden Mean philosophy of finding a middle ground between two extremes: excess and deficiency.

Active as a DJ since the millennium, which saw her playing at clubs, festivals and fashion shows across the country, she soon turned her attention to music production and has since self-released a handful of singles and contributed audio commissions for Sony Playstation3, museums, theatres and apparel brands. Yuu’s meditative pallet of sounds instantly grabbed Cyphon’s third ear which led to the tracks that make up ‘Forever’: a collection of analog slo-mo electronica and leftfield minimal house that strike a perfect balance between warmth and depth.

The release opens with the titular track: a deep, emotive electro cut punctuated by a twinkling synthline and blissful vocals. ‘Mojito’ continues the EP’s voyage into the deep, matching softly spoken word with jazz-tinged chords and meandering melodies, before ’Hug Close’ strips things back, guided by a crunchy minimal groove, warm, resolute keys and reflective synths.

The B-Side steers things on a soulful course. The dark, enveloping atmosphere of ‘Illuminated Night' is lifted by bright synth stabs and harmonic R&B-flavoured vocals. These influences continue on closer ‘Stay With Us’. Slowing down the pace, the track is a wash of shimmering funk-inspired chords and shuffling rhythms, laced once again with effortless, soaring vocal tones.

DJ Feedback:

Joyce Muniz - Nice one!

Andrew Wowk - "Mojito" is awesome - such a nice groove (followed up)

Geordie Elliot-kerr - Some really interesting stuff in here. Digging the whole thing.

Simon Caldwell - Cool and different.

Paul Beller - super star release.

Fred Peterkin - Dope...

Alex Barck - Sounds fresh to me

Ruben Mandolini – Nice

Gabriel Izarraraz - great music will play for sure

Kristijan Molnar - Very nice!

Chris Loxton - superb

Danton Eeprom - Really love the production and original vibe of this record. bring it on!

Raymundo Rodriguez - cool release

With Panorama, Frank Maston pays homage to the classic era of library records and Italian soundtracks of the 70s. A blissed-out, grooving collection of filmic cues, it continues the unique brilliance of Tulips and Darkland. Elegant and easy, subtle and stylish, breezy and beautiful; this is his Maston-piece. Commissioned by legendary label KPM, Panorama cements Maston as a master of modern classics and the most mesmeric of contemporary composers.

In early 2020, Be With suggested to Frank that he should make a KPM record. He wasn't aware that they were still putting out new library records - but he was super keen: "It was completely surreal and it still hasn't fully sank in that I have a record in that catalog, sitting alongside those incredible albums that were so influential to me."

Frank was visiting family in his hometown of LA in March 2020 when the world ground to a halt so the KPM project arrived at a fortuitous moment. Having fantasised about committing to a record with no distractions, with a proper budget, access to his gear and space to work in - to really dig in and try to write and arrange the best work he could possibly make - it was a real "be careful what you wish for" moment. But, as Frank explained, "it completely saved my year and sanity to have something to focus on and get excited about. It was my lifeline." He spent seven months on it, working almost every day.

Maston had already been making library-influenced music so when KPM outlined the criteria for the tracks it was exactly what he had been doing all along. He thought the best approach would be to make a follow-up to Tulips that had a parallel life as a KPM record. Enjoying complete creative freedom, “gave me the drive to power through and dig in deep. I'm not sure if I could have kept myself on such a rigorous recording schedule under my own steam, and I think the momentum I had writing and recording it is part of the strength of this record."

Maston’s sleek retro-groove instrumentals emulate the classic KPM “Greensleeve” reel-to-reel recordings that provided mood-setting music for mid-century cinema, television, and radio programs. Apparently in close conversation with the John Cameron-Keith Mansfield KPM pastoral masterclass Voices In Harmony, Maston's Panorama could be heard as that record's funky follow-up. Yes, it's *that good*. Another reference point from the hallowed library would be Francis Coppieter's wonderful Piano Viberations.

Opener "First Class" is a blissed-out groove, featuring the soothing vocals of Molly Lewis and a glistening harp over drums, a two-note bass motif (from Eli Ghersinu of L'Eclair) and an assemblage of guitars, synths, French horn and glowing vibraphone. Acid Lounge, anyone? The irresistibly funky "Easy Money" is a gorgeous cut led by more of Molly's vocals, pastoral flute and Rhodes, underpinned by drums and percussion, grooving bass, chilled guitars and synth strings. Kicking the tempo up, the percussive "Storm" is a vibin' filmic-fusion jam where psychedelic guitars (courtesy of Pedrum of Allah Las/Paint) organ, jazzy flute, Rhodes and vibes all compete for a place in the sun, over drums and walking bassline.

The heavenly "You Shouldn't Have" is a delicate, melancholic wonder; a dreamy instrumental where the melody is shared by a whistle, harpsichord and celeste, over a cyclical piano chord sequence and bass, synths, guitars, organ and distant French horn. The tempo rises again with the passionate, sticky "Fling", a summery, nostalgic groove with skipping drums and percussion, warm bass and electric guitar, yearning flute and synth strings. The brilliantly titled "Fool Moon" has that Voices In Harmony sound down pat. A romantic slow-mo dreamscape of Rhodes and harpsichord, piano, light drums and softly strummed acoustic guitar.

Side B opens with "Medusa", a hopeful, mellowed-out track with shuffling drums, feel-good flute, muted horns, glowing Rhodes and synth strings. The soft and gentle "Morning Paper" is an elegant way to start the day; a beatless blend of flute, guitar, percussion, ambient synths and vibes. The upbeat head-nod jam "Scenic" has that widescreen car-chase feel, uptempo drums and percussion, grooving bass, piano, synths and ambient electric guitar. "Adieu" is a smooth summer vibe, relaxing with brushed drums, Rhodes, flutes and horns. Molly Lewis's gorgeous vocals steal the show, alongside vibes, jamming organ and synth strings.

"Hydra" is another laid-back 70s-sounding retro cinema cue with light drums and percussion, walking bass, spacey synths, clavinet, glowing vibraphone, vintage organ and electric guitar. Closer "Jet Lag" is a laconic bow out; bass-driven drum machine soul, featuring hand percussion, Rhodes, vibes, synths and organ.

Multi-instrumentalist Frank played a bit of everything across Panorama. Yet, humble as ever, he believes the time, energy, and enthusiasm of all of the musicians invited to the sessions helped him realise his vision: "There were two Italian flautists who really understood what I was going for. Two french horn players, cor anglais, a vibraphonist and a flügel horn player. I've never involved this many people in my projects before, and yet the result is the most "me" record I've ever made."

Musically, a strong Italian theme runs through the record. Frank is fascinated by ancient Rome and both his parents are Italian (Maston was originally Mastrantonio before anglicisation). So, it felt natural to fully embrace these strands and tie everything together with the striking artwork. The Romans were influenced by Greek culture, emulating their art and architecture, which, in turn, influenced Renaissance era artists. Frank acknowledged this tradition when reflecting on his place in the lineage of library and soundtrack composers. He then asked his friend Mattea Perrotta, a painter and sculptor, for some sketches. What he received was exactly what he had in mind: "Especially the theater mask, which really captures the range of moods on the album". Frank arranged them as per the cover and it soon felt right: "I wanted to make a cover that was reminiscent of the classic KPM albums without making it too pastiche - so it has its own identity and looks at home alongside other library records, while still fitting in nicely in the KPM catalogue." The last step was for us to introduce Frank to Be With-KPM’s Rich Robinson, who helped put together the back and centre labels and align it all within the KPM standard.

Panorama is a perfect title for the album. With no opportunity to travel for tours or recording projects, Frank arranged postcards from his collection on his desk with beautiful views of the mediterranean coast, the Roman Colosseum and Cinque Terre. These also served as visual prompts: "That was part of the sonic concept - imagining myself driving down the mediterranean coast with this music on, with the top down." Additionally, the range of moods and vibes - "I tried to make each song very different from the previous one in terms of tempo and arrangement and feeling" - speaks to the idea of a Panorama of music and sounds and emotions. The last track was originally called Panorama, but KPM already had that title in their catalogue so it was changed to "Jet Lag", which, as Frank notes, "is perhaps even more fitting, since the trip is over".

Here’s artist Max Kuhn on hearing the new Ralph White recordings for the first time: “I was driving a familiar round trip across the high desert when I first put it on. It immediately spoke to me. In the lyrics there's a familiar geography for me, a familiar emotional landscape for all of us. And maybe it was driving an almost 40 year old truck on sun baked & cracked asphalt in July, but it's like you can hear his songs coming apart- the cadence, the rhymes stumbling & defying expectations, consistency but they just keep moving. You have no choice but to go with it. Probably a good lesson for how to live in this era we're in, cracking up but keeping it all running somehow, trying to make something pretty with the time.” Recorded in Austin, Texas in March of 2020, just days before the city and the rest of the world shut down, Ralph White spent two days with producer, Jerry David DeCicca (Will Beeley, Ed Askew) and recording engineer, Don Cento, capturing a raw and wild set of performances. Ralph, having recently converted his van into a mobile living and touring quarters equipped with a wood-burning stove, left Austin, the city where he was born 70 years ago, and retreated to an Arizona commune where he began building a new house in the desert hills to escape the virus and insanity of daily living. Ralph takes us on a journey through his myriad of travels: from Dock Boggs to Syd Barrett to William Faulkner to Stella Chiweshe to Blind Uncle Gaspard…scratching banjo, rasping train whistle hollers, rolling kalimba, rousing accordion, taut shimmers of guitar, caustic fiddle and lyrics - that could have been hidden amongst the dusty inner groove of a lost Harry Smith 78 - weaving in and out of streams of consciousness, time and place. In addition to his solo work, White has recorded or performed with a diverse group of folk and avant-garde musicians: Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, Jandek, Jack Rose, Eugene Chadbourne, Michelle Shocked, Sir Richard Bishop, and Michael Hurley. “This is what Ralph White really sounds like. It’s what time passing really sounds like. It’s what a look really feels like. This record is someone touching you all over!” --Bill Callahan “Striking, electrifying acoustic music from an underappreciated legend of the American Southwest. Here, tight song structures meet open, unadorned instrumentation: guitar, banjo, kalimba, accordion, fiddle, and White's elastic voice, unspooling pitches and syllables. White draws listeners in on his terms. Lyrics wind and twist and pull back: "Motel 6, Motel 6, Altoona, Altoona; missing you, missing you so, great big hole in my--..." Brave, beautiful, a high point in White's long career. And this is just Volume 1!” - Eli Winter. "What Ralph White puts on albums and onstage is so mind-boggling and vast, it forces those of us in the description business down a treacherous path." --Darcie Stevens, Austin Chronicle. “White was a member of well-loved punk bluegrass outfit Bad Livers, but his solo work is possessed of a much more lonesome spark, exaggerating the implied drone at the heart of the music of Dock Boggs and The Stanley Brothers…White plays wooden six-string banjo, violin, button accordion and kalimba and his voice has a high, eerie quality to it…extremely psychedelic.” --David Keenan, The Wire Tracklisting: 1. Gun Barrel Polka 2. Misinformation Shuffle 3. El Golfo 4. Something About Dreaming 5. Rye Straw 6. The Stovepipe Blues 7. No Stranger 8. Morning Sickness 9. Lord Franklin

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

INFRACom!, one of the longest operating Independent labels in Germany, celebrate it´s 30yrs anniversary with a vinyl compilation consisting of tracks that have never been released on vinyl before. Label co-founder Jan Hagenkötter handpicked these from various artist in the catalog, true to the spirit of the label and its operator – We couldn´t save the entire planet but we still like to save your soul.

The artwork was once again designed by Rafael Jimenez Heckmann, a well-known graphic designer from Offenbach. He is responsible for most of the artworks and designs on INFRACom!... his covers have already been awarded several times e.g. in Lürzers Archive and others.

The inlay was designed by the long time friend & well known artist Jim Avignon. In the nineties before Jim went to Berlin and New York to get world famous he lived in Frankfurt for a few years and drew and partied a lot with Jan Hagenkötter & Namé Vaughn…the two DJ´s, friends and founders of INFRACom! He even contributed a song to the very first INFRACom! production. Since that time they cultivate a lovely friendship and Jim was happy to contribute an artwork to this anniversary release.

Most of the tracks included on the compilation were released only on CD and then digitally in the so-called 2000s or noughties, as it was very difficult to release any album on vinyl during that time due to the situation in the music market while the transition from physical to digital products and the piracy phenomenon. Fortunately, today the different formats can coexist again.

INFRACom!, once started locally in Frankfurt with artist like Shantel who released his first recordings on the label. He is featured by a collaboration with the Brazilian duo Rosanna & Zélia. Soon INFRACom! expanded to an international platform for artist from all over the world like Jhelisa (USA), Mop Mop & Gabriele Poso..both from Italy, Metropolitan Jazz Affair the brainchild of French producer and musician Patchworks, Taxi from the UK, Rime from Finland or Aromabar from Austria…all with different styles of music.

The vision of the two founders Jan Hagenkötter & Namé Vaughn was and still is artistically oriented and has never favored just only one style of music.
The roots of INFRACom as a label are based in the various form of black music culture - conditiopned to the influences and personal history of the two founders - but also deeply rooted in the club and DJ culture and various forms of electronic music. The compilation can only show a small glimpse into the universe with tunes that stand the test of time.

One of the best examples is Matthias Vogt with whom the label has a long standing collaboration and who just this year released the album PIANISSIMO on INFRACom!. He can be heard with his Matthias Vogt (Jazz) Trio in a cinematic remix from Joash and two pieces by the highly successful re:jazz band which he leads.

With Valique we are happy to feature a Belarus/Russian artist on the release these days….one who already showed ten years ago on his album artworks what he thinks about the politics of his government. As an open minded label and ethnical diverse ppl. we think “Fuck Putin and his disciples and like-minded people, but let's not condemn all Russian-born people. Some prefer to worship Herbie Hancock...like Valique and we want to support that.”

With Nekta, Dublex Inc. feat Stee Downes and Kosma this release features three more artists from various regions in Germany, each with their great moments.….and last but not least the mysterious Woodland Conclave (UK)…a waltz and a story yet to be told and hopefully will be…on INFRACom!…in the near future!




d A4 | re jazz Feat N'dea Davenport - Don't Push Your Luck (Wagon Cookin´ Vocal Remix)

f B2 | re jazz Feat Mediha - Tears




d A4 | [Re:Jazz] feat. N'Dea Davenport - Don'T Push Your Luck (Wagon Cookin' Vocal Remix)

[f] B2 | [Re:Jazz] feat. Mediha - Tears

Copenhagens own dj legend and veteran producer KIM KEMI releases another jacking and euphoric banger- ONLY SMOKE - his stylish and subtle sound design and varied arrangement take hints of Robert Hoods minimal riffs and flesh out a full funky arrangement taking us on that classic luxurious sonic journey. Pres play and trigger the
smoke machine - or the soap bubbles.
Martinez ́s remix is a more electro affair that could blend well with classic Underground Resistance releases. Watch out for the acid topline. Martinez is a Swedish electronic music producer and DJ, currently based in Copenhagen. Martinez kick started his carrier
in 2000 with his "Laidback Grooves EP" on the notorious Chicago based Deep-House label Guidance Recordings.
Asmus Odsats remix of SMOKE KILLS is taking the track in a more broken but funky IDM territory, breaking the track down adding avantgarde dub details over the stuttering beat.
Asmus Odsat is a former resident at Culture Box and co-founder of Ritual Malmö as well as the BULK club night releases via. FALK DISKS, the club focused sub-label of FALK (Fuck Art Lets Kill) with his ‘Ecstatic Half Truth’ EP, is played by Courtesy - even in her BBC Radio 1 show mix.
An added bonus to these 3 unique remixes is Kim Kemis beautiful
Tropical Tucan, a perfect opening track fusing sensual chilly Detroit pads and jacking understated beats into a growing glowing mind-state that is worthy of a Carl Craig spin - let it ride - don't miss the climax - you will end up looping it. An essential tool. Enjoy!

Repressed !

Fuzzed out and psychedelic covers of rare and classic tracks performed by San Francisco's Monophonics.
Monophonics are back with a six-song EP that fuses the complimentary and explosive soul, rock and funk influences, proving themselves to be the rightful inheritors of the Bay Area’s impressive psychedelic soul sound. Mirrors is comprised entirely of cover tunes, except that I doubt you’ve ever heard of half the deeply funky and soulful originals that inspired these soulful, tastefully produced, and timeless Monophonics treatments. “We wanted to do a couple songs that were more familiar to people and then shine some light on groups we’re big into,” lead singer, keyboardist and co-producer Kelly Finnigan explains. It takes a lot of guts to cover your favorite songs, your van jams, that song you play as a shot of inspiration to break-up a marathon studio session. “Not only are these great songs, but these are artists that we listen to and are influenced by.”

“It’s not about making records that sound old, it’s about making records that sound cool,” Kelly says. Not that he and the other five members of Monophonics mind if you confuse their albums for classic-era recordings. Even musician friends regular mistake a sweaty and greasy Monophonics original for an unheard Bar-Kays’ side, or a deep soul cover tune might pass for an original to a novice ear, except that Kelly makes sure to give credit where credit is due, which is what they do explicitly on this EP, Mirrors.

Even the familiar tunes, iconic, better said, receive a fresh treatment as instrumentals, despite their ubiquity as vocal songs. The EP opens with a ‘tip of the cap’ to The Main Ingredient’s version of “Summer Breeze” before the band unfolds a hazy, mellow-funk opus worthy of inclusion on a Bob James CTI album. The next four songs, all featuring vocals, range from the lowrider soul ballad, a cover of the The Invicibles’ “My Heart Cries” with a pleading and plaintive vocal by Nicole Smith, to the psychedelic blues stomp, “Lying,” originally by the archetypical psychedelic soul band nearly signed to Motown, Black Merda. Add in Kelly’s monster vocal take on Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons Northern Soul classic, “Beggin” (to be released as a 7” single with an instrumental version on the b-side), and the deep-funk pop-soul of Nu People’s “I’d be Nowhere Without You” with back-up vocals by Jeanine Jones and Veronica Johnson, and you have a highly-entertaining, toe-tapping, backbone-slipping, masterclass in deep funk and soul.

The final tune is the band’s singular take on the Mamas and the Papas hippie standard, “California Dreaming,” as an explicit and heartfelt tribute to their fans in Greece. The discerning music lovers of Greece fell in love with Monophonics after their 2012 hit “Bang Bang” resulting in multiple tours of the Mediterranean, where these native Californians imbibed on the fine ouzo, good vibes, and Grecian hospitality. Gifted a prized bouzouki (a traditional Greek guitar) by a local fan, Monophonics’ guitarist Ian McDonald and band infused this classic pop song with a soulful cinematic air and Mediterranean flavor, evoking a tune from an imagined Fellini film with a soundtrack by David Axelrod.

Catch the band on the road this Spring to hear some of these songs, favorites and new tunes from their forthcoming LP.

Hypnagogia remains one of the most mysterious and haunting daily states of mind. Moments of revelation are wont to traditionally hit us particularly in the hinterland between dream and waking, It’s this particular headspace that’s very much the world of ‘Pö om pö’, the second Rocket Recordings released full-length record from Sweden’s equally mysterious OCH. Pö om pö (meaning ‘little by little’) is a journey further into inner space from ‘II’, the previous Rocket outing (which followed a 2014 cassette only release) What’s mapped out here is a trajectory on the kosmische continuum that touches on the terrain of late-‘70s Sky records style ambience, the more overgrown quarters of Swedish experimental prog and the sun-baked lo-fi DIY cassette culture of the US early ‘00s.Dwelling in a smoke-clouded glow that’s equal parts sunset gold and effects pedal red, OCH have here transcended all influences to creating a tapestry of potent psychotropic sound. A record in which new horizons open up beyond the small hours, and where primeval wah-wah-abetted skronk and mantric folk tinged repetition can collude to reveal new third-eye perceptions. Little By Little, Pö om pö , these forty minutes are here to bridge the chasms between conscious and subconscious, and in style.

ALL THEIR LEGENDARY RECORDINGS, PLUS LOADS OF UNRELEASED STUFF!

“The Lipstick Killers were easily one of the greatest live bands I've witnessed in my 65 yrs. on this planet” – Keith Morris (Black Flag/Circle Jerks/Off!!)

HINDU GODS ARE CALLING YOU!!! Grown Up Wrong! Records is thrilled beyond belief to present the LONG-AWAITED anthology of material by the legendary Lipstick Killers, who blazed a trail in late ‘70s post-Radio Birdman Sydney before gigging with the likes of the Gun Club and the Flesh Eaters in Los Angeles where they crashed and burned in 1981.

The Lipstick Killers released just one single in their life time – the perfect ’79 Deniz Tek-produced pairing of “Hindu Gods of Love” and ”Shakedown USA” on their own Lost in Space Records and Greg Shaw’s Voxx Records - but a posthumous live album and a couple of archival releases followed. It was all incredible. All that material is included here, as is a plethora of additional stuff, all from the best-available sources (mostly original tapes).

The Lipstick Killers’ enigmatic and high-energy sound – heavily inspired by the Stooges and the ‘60s psychedelic punk sounds of bands like the Thirteenth Floor Elevators and the Chocolate Watchband – bridged the gap between Radio Birdman and subsequent Sydney groups like the Sunnyboys (whose first-ever show was opening for the Lipstick Killers), Lime Spiders, Hoodoo Gurus, the Screaming Tribesmen and the Psychotic Turnbuckles. And of course they anticipated generation after generation of other bands with similar things in mind, right up to today’s ‘60s-inspired freaks like The Straight Arrows, The Living Eyes and Thee Oh Sees.